


Vor Geilheit Ertrinken

by theprettynerdie



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Bathtub Sex, F/M, Marriage, Married Couple, Romance, Vaginal Fingering, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprettynerdie/pseuds/theprettynerdie
Summary: Count Von Krolock has two wedding gifts for his new bride.
Relationships: Sarah Chagal/Graf von Krolock
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Vor Geilheit Ertrinken

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine my surprise when I found out there's virtually NO smutfic for Sarah/Krolock! (None if you are only counting the German production). Of course I had to fix that.
> 
> Dedicated to a-touch-of-darkness over on tumblr, who has been my sensei in all things Tanz.

All in all, the Count thinks, it had certainly been a good idea to dress his bride in red, rather than the traditional white. For one thing, the color suits her far better, though he has to admit he finds her ravishing in just about anything she wears. For another, it may well have been impossible to wash the crimson of their wedding feast from her gown by the time she was finished, had it been white.

Hungry though he was, he sates himself for the time being by simply watching his new wife as she bends over the body of the poor wandering traveler procured for the occasion. There will be plenty of time later to introduce her to the finer points of blood-drinking, but he can not bring himself to do so now. After all, she deserves to enjoy every aspect of this night to the fullest. And they do have all the time in the world to perfect her technique.

As it stands, however, the eagerness with which she sets herself to the task is a testament to Count Von Krolock’s choice of a bride. The three centuries he’d spent waiting for a woman like her had been truly worth it.

“What a _lovely_ gift,” she purrs, looking up at him and baring her bloody teeth. He grants her a smile in return.

“The first of many,” he assures her, extending his hand. “Come.”

Reluctantly, Sarah drops the traveler’s near-lifeless body to the floor and takes her husband’s hand.

“There’s more?” she asks.

“For you? Of course.” He finds himself distracted by the blood adorning her slender neck, so he bends forward to lap at it before pressing a kiss to the newly-clean skin. Sarah moans, then whines when he pulls away.

“Patience, my dear,” he chuckles. “All in due time.”

He leads her to the bathroom, which has been prepared in advance for the evening the Count has planned. Candles, dozens of them, provide the only source of light, and the bath has been filled with sweet-smelling perfume and as many bubbles as inhumanely possible. Though she has already bathed here once before, it has never been _quite_ like this. Upon seeing the scene laid out for her, Sarah squeals with delight.

“Oh it’s perfect!” she declares, offering him a kiss on the cheek and turning to present her back to him. “Would you mind helping me out of this dress?”

Of course he doesn’t mind. Smiling, the Count takes his time undressing his wife, taking care to press his lips to every inch of newly-bared flesh that he can manage. She shivers with pleasure as he works, gasps when he presses fingertips into the soft flesh of her back and works the knots of muscle there until she’s melting beneath them.

The moment her gown touches the floor, Sarah whips around to press her naked body against her husband and capture his mouth in a hungry kiss. Her desire for him seems no less restrained or feverish than her desire for that traveler’s blood, and the Count finds that very pleasing indeed.

So without preamble, he begins to disrobe himself, made slightly more difficult by the distraction of his wife’s insistent lips. In the end, though, he is able to strip completely so that the two of them are naked, pressed against each other, enraptured by the feeling of flesh against flesh.

“In,” he urges. His resistance is fraying, and he fears the bath might go to waste if they don’t get in _now._

Sarah is obviously in a similar state of mind. Without letting go of him for a moment, she backs up until she’s close enough to step into the warm water and pull her husband in along with her.

They both make a token effort to enjoy the water, but it’s difficult to relax, even in this soothing atmosphere. So despite his wish to see Sarah enjoy the best bath she’s ever had, the Count surges forward to taste of her lips again.

If he’d been hard before, he’s surely _stone_ now. Sarah is pure sweetness, offering him the most beautiful little moans as he explores every part of her with his hands and lips and teeth. She cries out when he pins her against the side of the tub, fastens his lips around one breast and then the other, and positively _whines_ when his hand delves beneath the water to play with the slickness between her thighs.

“Beg me,” he tells her in a commanding tone. Despite his own lust, he maintains some semblance of control, even in this. “Beg me for it, Sarah.”

She obeys at once, wound too tightly to even attempt to resist him now. “Please, please, do it to me, please…”

His lips and teeth and tongue assault the juncture between her throat and shoulder, and his fingers sink inside of her. Her screams of pleasure delight him just as much as, perhaps even more than, the screams of countless victims past.

He’s never, in his life or afterlife, known such bliss, he thinks. Sarah is incoherent when she comes, spasming around his fingers and calling his name, her hands clutching painfully at his shoulders.

“You sound so pretty when you scream,” the Count tells her. “Almost as pretty as you look when you come.”

Sarah smiles, eyes closed as she revels in the afterglow. “Take me. _Please._ I can’t wait any longer…”

Krolock laughs, positioning himself at her entrance. “I hadn’t intended to make you wait, my dear.”

The two of them both shudder as he presses inside her. Sarah’s hands grasp at his back, digging her fingers into the muscles there until her nails nearly pierce flesh. Pinned as she is, she can barely do more than hold on as the Count takes her, as harshly as a beast might, snarling against her neck. Sarah has already known tenderness at his hands, and she delights in it, but this vicious, animalistic fucking? Oh, it’s absolute perfection.

It’s _beyond_ perfection.

“Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” she babbles, lost in pure sensation.

“You take me so well,” he says in reply. “ _So_ well. Like you were _made_ for me.”

“Yes!” Sarah agrees at once. “For you, for you…”

“Come for me,” Krolock says, returning his fingers to her clit and stroking furiously. “Come, Sarah. For me. _Come.”_

She could not have resisted even if she wanted to. Wailing, with blissful tears spilling down her cheeks, she comes for him, just as he’d demanded. He follows her over the edge almost at once, spilling inside her with his own thunderous roar of satisfaction.

When the ability to form coherent though returns to them, they take stock of the state of the bathroom. Half the candles near the tub have been extinguished, as the fervency of their fucking sent water sloshing over the tub and across the floor. At any rate, the blood of their earlier victim has been washed away from Sarah’s body, leaving only pretty pale skin in its wake.

Not that it shall stay so unblemished for long. For if it is not covered with more blood soon enough, the Count plans to blemish it with plenty of marks of his own. He’s already finding it a difficult task to keep his hands and mouth off of her. Her blood had tasted sweet, but her lips and flesh are full of a different sort of sweetness entirely, one he finds himself rapidly becoming addicted to.

Sarah smiles, giving just the barest hint of the fangs hiding behind it, and Count Von Krolock is sure he’s drowning.


End file.
